Walk on Water or Drown

Epilogue

'Harry' Louis whimpers, muscles taught under tanned skin. 'what do you mean?'

'I… uh..' Harry stumbles over his words, running a hand through his damp curls and muttering fuck, fuck, fuck under his breath because it was all perfect and now it's gone to shit because Louis knows now. He knows. He didn't know before but now that it's out in the open it's almost as if it's suffocating them.

'Harry.' the blue eyed boy repeats his name and his whisper is so broken, so barely there that it's all Harry can take and he's coming apart piece by piece. The tears are back and he's choking on his words and trying to figure a way out of this mess and all he can do is think: what if I lose him, what if this is it?

'Louis, let me explain.' he breathed out, looking Louis in the eye briefly and watching as he nodded, signalling that he had permission. Slowly, he turned to face away from the older boy and tugged his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and squeezing tightly. He took a deep breath, Louis' name poised on the tip of his tongue, completely ready to be accompanied by platitudes and apologies and countless it's nothing's and it's all Harry can do not to give up.

'I can't do this if I'm looking at you.' he settles for the words, the truth feeling foreign in his mouth. He's gotten so used to just omitting it. Not outright lying, not hiding, just not telling the truth. This is what it feels like, honesty, openness, love. It's then that he realizes that they're still in the pool hall, sitting at the edge of the man made swimming hole completely drenched and still in their soaked clothes. Harry shakes it off. If he doesn't continue, he might not get another chance.

'I love you.' He started, blurting out the words. They felt like home, the intangible syllables muttered into space smelling of vanilla and honeysuckle and fresh cut grass and clean clothes and vacuumed floors and sex and mint toothpaste. 'Since year six.'

The words churned in Louis' mind: I love you and since year six. Flashes of stunning emerald greens, wet curly hair, porcelain skin, full lips, and dimples, dimples, dimples whizzing around his mind so fast it made his head spin and his stomach lurch. It was all coming together. That's why Harry was so familiar, that explained the flash back, why Harry was so eager to help Louis learn how to swim again. He was there the first time. Harry saved him.

'You saved me.' Louis didn't phrase it as a question, letting his words hang heavy in the air as his stare bore holes into Harry's expansive back.

'I did.' It's a straightforward answer. They've already wasted so much time dancing around how they felt. 'Let me finish.'

Louis closed his mouth, witty retort and accusing questions dying before they even passed his lips.

'I love you.' Harry repeated, this time continuing on, 'I love you more than the moon and stars and the sun that shines brightly in the sky. I love you more than rain and thunder and lightning. I love you more than snow and hail, more than mudslides and floods and monsoons and droughts and hurricanes and dust storms and tornadoes. I love you more than a flower blossoming from the soil, more than a doe nursing her baby. I love you more than all the things in life, and I'd give them all up if it meant I could be with you.'

And this time, Louis is so lost in Harry's confession that he doesn't notice that the younger boy has turned around. He doesn't notice the way their lips collide, fitting together perfectly in a heated kiss. He doesn't notice that he forgot to close his eyes, or that Harry's are still open as well. It's only when Louis catches Harry's gaze that it all clicks.

And then Louis is swimming. It isn't perfect, his strokes are uneven and unsure, feeble and clumsy like a toddler, but it's coming back to him and that's what matters. The current is strong and he feels like he's getting swept out to sea but that's okay, because he's swimming, locked on, completely and utterly oblivious to anything other than harry and curls and the sweet scent of mangoes and chlorine as he struggles to stay afloat. He's swimming, swimming, swimming and getting lost and all he can think about is how it'd be completely okay for him to drown right here because he's just swimming in the depths of Harry's eyes and everything is perfect.